Gilligans Island Ch. 2

Gilligan and Maryanne rested briefly with the cool ocean breeze caressing their glistening naked bodies. A deep tongue kiss signalled Maryanne's' appreciation of Gilligan's efforts and her thrilling orgasm, while Gilligan fingered her still hot muff with gentle strokes. Before getting dressed both agreed to keep their session a secret and each returned to their huts.

Meanwhile the Skipper was fishing at the lagoon hoping to catch some fish for dinner. He was a stout man of six foot whom although he carried a bit of a gut his muscular arms and legs, courtesy of years of sailing, make him appear rock solid. Unknown to the Skipper he was at that very moment being spied on by the vivacious Ginger. Her self-gratifying wank session and Gilligan's knock back had left her as horny as hell and she viewed the Skippers arse like a hungry lioness. Springing out of the shrubbery she onto the Skipper before he knew what hit him. Her arms entwined around his girth and she nibbled his ear.

"Ooh Skipper you beautiful hunk of a man," she cooed, " You're a sailor boy if ever there was."

"Well yes Ginger I, err, suppose I am. I must say you surprised me for a second there. What can I do to help you?"

Ginger slowly rubbed a hand up his fishing pole in a slow sensuous stroke.

"Well this little woman needs a mans touch, if you get my drift, and sailors are a girls best friend. Right?"

The Skipper positively trembled and spluttered an incoherent response. The large bulge in his pants though gave Ginger the answer she was looking for. Turning the Skipper around Ginger gave him a light peck with her gloss red lips and with a small coo and wiggled of her shoulders she sank to her knees. Dropping his trousers, Ginger was greeted by the Skippers yardarm. Taking a short breath Ginger had to admit this was a pretty impressive pole and would take all her expertise to conquer. Still who was to know he hid a 12-inch boner in those sailor pants.

Taking hold of the thick cock Ginger lapped the large helmet head and giggled at his salty pre cum. Then with practised skill she proceeded to gobble down his twitching pole. Deeper and deeper she swallowed stopping only once to reposition her hold on his hips. The Skipper trembled and groaned in absolute ecstasy as Ginger deep throated him like never before.

"I must say Ginger you really are a talented girl aren't you, aaaaaaargh," he cried as she answered him with a slobbering gurgle and a tug of his balls. Soon Ginger was stroking like a rower in heat taking his cock in and out at a furious pace. Skipper felt the familiar knee tremble coming on and braced himself on Gingers shoulders.

Feeling the pressure in his cock reach breaking point and his balls retracted high in his sack, Ginger knew her reward was on its way. The Skipper bellowed a massive roar and shot his load with staggering force. Ginger had to relinquish six inches of his cock as her head snapped back and she gulped his surging wad of cum. Still she was unable to capture it all as cum spilt out the corners of her mouth and down her chin. Removing the remainder of his cock the Skipper crashed to the beach. His huge erection saluted the morning sun and his breathing subsided to a slower rate. Next instant though the sun was blocked as Ginger straddled him and hoisted her evening dress up around her waist.

"Skipper, permission to board sir?" she requested in time honoured navy fashion.

"Permission granted!" he replied in a commanding tone.

"Boy I'm gunna fuck you silly." Ginger promised as the Skipper just smiled like a cat with the cream as she torpedoed herself on his boner. Her hot cunt gripped as much of his cock as possible before she eased forward and started fucking him with a smooth regular motion. Wasting no time the Skipper pulled down the straps of her halter neck dress and greedily mauled at her big swinging tits. Her nipples where long and hard and tasted divine, he gorged on both, chewing, sucking and biting.

In fact he kneaded her tits like teats on a cow trying to fit as much of her breast into his mouth as possible. This only spurred the insatiable Ginger onto greater heights, and she started to sing as her orgasm approached. Although a bit disconcerting the Skipper thought who am I to argue. So as he slammed his cock relentlessly into her he joined in. A screaming chorus of 'God bless America' signalled their mutual orgasm, before the force of Gingers orgasm tossed her off and onto the beach. They lay there for a while before the Skipper said thankyou with a big slap of her arse.

"Well Ginger you certainly are the catch of the day'" he giggled

"Anything for my fans, anything." Ginger decreed as she rose on unsteady legs, adjusted her hair, and proceeded to waddle up the beach bow legged. It would take some time to recover, as she could not remember the last time her pussy had been stretched to capacity like that.

Meanwhile Thurston and Mrs. Howell where out on the back nine of the islands golf course. They where at the tricky 12th, designed by Gilligan, where the dogleg to the left took you perilously close to out of bounds, which happened to be a cliff.

"Pass me the 4 wood Lovey, I'm going to thrash the blasted ball through the jungle and onto the green," he stated boldly. Lovey handed him his club and stood back to admire his purposeful swing. Unbeknown to Thurston though was the fact that at just 100 yards away the Professor was shagging a knot in a palm tree. He had taken too much of his own aphrodisiac and although well lubricated with jellyfish oil fucked the tree with no care for possible splinters.

Thurston let go a booming drive that never got above three and half feet and sliced wildly to the left. The scream that followed left the Howells mystified as they proceeded onto the undergrowth. But the sight that befell them as they entered the clearing was staggering. For there was the Professor, pants around his ankles, his erect cock poking into a palm tree and a golf ball half buried up his arse.

"Talk about a bad lye Lovey how am I expected to play through. Egghead old man, I don't mean to be rude but shagging a palm tree? Where is the logic man?" Thurston enquired.

"Poor dear," Lovey sighed, "Let me help you out."

Kneeling down behind the Professor Mrs. Howell admired his well-developed buns and shivered slightly as she ran her hands over them. They where tight and firm like Thurston's used to be and her pussy tingled and she unconsciously massaged them.

"Lovey, the ball," implored Thurston, breaking her trance, and she refocused on the ball. Slowly and carefully Lovey worked a manicured digit up the Professors arse. Hooking the golf ball she popped it out in one smooth action. It rolled about three feet past the palm giving Thurston a perfect shot at the green. Wasting no time Thurston grabbed his 9 iron and played through. Lovey though had left her finger firmly planted up the Professors arse and wondered at its hot rubbery feel as she fingered his prostate. The Professor now had his cock fully erect again and worked his arse around her finger totally immersed with the sensation.

Boldly Lovey reached up with her other hand and stroked his large balls then lent forward and licked his buns. After caressing his balls for a few minutes she deftly manoeuvred her hand around his hot sticky cock and eased it out of the palm tree. Turning him around she saw his large tool was red and raw and angry.

"Poor boy," she cooed again, and ran the tip of he tongue over the crown of his cock. "Let me help you dear. Nobody needs to fuck a tree when my nest is always ready for a homeless boner."

The professor had never given anybody but Ginger a second thought and although Mrs Howell was most definitely and older woman she was still very attractive. More so at this point as she started to suck his cock and ease his flaming itch with her warm moist saliva. The Professors 7 inch dick made up for its lack of length by its 5-inch circumference. Loveys lips where stretched tight and her jaws fully open as she took his cock in one all engulfing blowjob.

This was all too much for the Professor. Grabbing Lovey he pulled her up and kissed her passionately. He proceeded to remove her riding pants and panties before ripping open her blouse and attacking her pendulous titties. While sucking mercilessly on her large nipples he lifted her left leg up and she wrapped it round his waist. Then in one clean jerk he impaled her onto his cock. With her back against the palm for support he thrust into her hard and deep lifting her right foot of the ground with every manic effort. Loveys' cunt was still tight and her well-developed thigh muscles, from all her horse riding, squeezed the Professors hips like a vice.

They came together in a heaving mass of arms and legs and lips. Lovey took his load like the seasoned professional she was and the Professor finally had relief for his over filled balls. Grunting and heaving they leant against the palm, then Lovey spoke.

"My dear boy anytime you feel the need I am totally yours," she smiled and kissed him lightly.

"Thank you Mrs. Howell for a truly awesome fuck and thank Thurston too for his wayward drive." They both laughed and moved off. Up at the ninth Thurston had managed to save his par but it was the Professor who had scored a hole in one.